Little Princess
by Turtleduckies
Summary: A day in the life of Kevin Price, pageant dad, and his favourite little girl, Kevilynn. Post-canon gen.


**A/N**: This story takes place post-canon, in a headcanon where Kevin Price is asexual and lives with Arnold and Nabulungi in Salt Lake City, well after they're married. The Cunninghams have five kids, one of which is named after Kevin, as he's sort of their third parent. Cross-posted from my Tumblr, thisbitchwillchangeyourlife.

Enjoy, read, and review!

* * *

><p><strong>1.<strong>

"_Hi_, I'm _Kevin Price_, and my daughter, Kevilynn- wait. Wait, can I start that again?"

There's a lengthy pause as he shifts in his seat, adjusting the mic on the collar of his shirt. When he finds himself comfortable once more, he continues: "I just- well, she's not _biologically_ my daughter, but I've practically _raised_ her all this time-"

"Just- sir, just say she's your daughter, it makes it easier on everyone."

"If- if you _say_ so- but I'd just like to make it _completely_ clear that I'm _not_ some sort of...fundementalist _weirdo_. I just live with her biological parents because they're my _best friends_."

"Sir, can we just do the take again, please?"

"Oh. _Hah_, of _course_- _hi!_ I'm _Kevin Price_, and my daughter, Kevilynn, is _4 years old_ and she's going to be the next Miss American Inspiration _Grand Supreme!_"

He knows they'll be splicing shots of his daughter as she goes about her business, acting like a little kid, and he _knows_ they'll need something to play over it, so he keeps talking. "She's just my little _princess_, and I _know_ she's special enough to take the whole pageant!"

He sits back, chuckling and flashing them a Crest Whitestrips smile before he uncrosses his legs. "Now, this is _Miss American Inspiration_. It's not like this is one of those _feel-good_ pageants, like _Diamond Star_- no, this place is _cutthroat_. And_my_ little star is going to _win it!_"

"Alright, sir, that's great."

"Fantastic! Just- _yeah_, wow, also, can we not...talk about family, or, uh, or anything? Yeah, I don't think that's _necessary_, we can just go see her _trophies!_ I think that sounds just _swell_, don't you? _Great!_"

* * *

><p><strong>2.<strong>

The house is crowded enough with eight people living in it, so, unlike the other little girls who often participate in pageants ("The _spoiled_ ones," Kevin mutters to the camera conspiratorially) Kevilynn doesn't have a little room dedicated to her trophies- instead, they line the walls of her bedroom. Still, though, of the five children, she's the only one who even _has_ her own room.

Directing the camera crew around as he holds his daughter's hand, he sighs in delight. Trophies. Glittering, perfect, golden_._A sash hangs from each one of them, tiaras artfully placed on a shelf above her bed. "And _these_ are all of Kevi's _wins_. She's a _real_ winner, aren't you, honey?"

Playing with her hair, the little girl just nods before she clings to her father's leg, grinning and laughing.

"_Aw_, here, go show the nice men your crowns, okay?" He pats her on the back gently, gesturing to her collection. Once she's off, he heads over to her collection. "Now, Kevilynn's been in a _few_ glitz pageants- we started her when she was _3_, that was when she really started showing her _attitude._" He grins back at the camera, running his hands over the top of one of the trophies. "I don't think she's_ever_ not placed. She's got _one_ Ultimate Grand Supreme under her belt already, but I mean, why _wouldn't_ she? Look at her!"

The girl in question turns around as he gestures towards her, a tiara placed haphazardly on her curly hair. Waving, she lets out another giggle.

"Oh, _gosh_. She's just _adorable!_" A pause as he waves back to her- when she grins, he just chuckles. "Look at that...Yeah, we don't use flippers in this house."

* * *

><p><strong>3.<strong>

"I don't do her hair." He smiles at the camera sheepishly, running a hand through his own. "I mean, well, can you see _me_, trying to do _anyone's_ hair?" With a quick laugh, he sighs. "No, no, we hired a _stylist_, Tracey. Tracey is just _incredible_, I mean, she can do things I wouldn't even _think_ of. And _somehow_, she's able to get my little _princess_ into her _wig_ and everything- which, _trust me_, is _such_ a chore."

One of the crew is feeling particularly daring. "What about her mother? Uh, assuming you still-"

"_What?_ No, _no_, hah, her- I thought we agreed we weren't _talking_ about family?" He lets out an uncomfortable, barking chuckle, his smile not stretching to his eyes. "Yeah, no, we're- we're not talking about anyone but _me_ and my _little princess!_ Okay?"

"Uh. Right."

* * *

><p><strong>4.<strong>

Kevin stands in the living room, hands on his hips, his brow set as he looks down at his daughter. Arnold and Nabulungi have been conspicuously gone all day, as have the other kids- just a part of his plan to look normal. He breaks into a smile, though it's demure and practiced, elegant and small, and then carefully starts a steady, slow pageant walk. "_See_, honey? Honey, look at me- this is how we _do_ it, Princess-"

She pays rapt attention to him, wearing almost the same determined look he was wearing just moments before. Then, just as quickly, she takes her turn and follows his same pattern. At each little X that he's marked out on the carpet, she stops and poses, her head tilted just slightly to the side.

Standing back, Kevin can't help but grin behind his hand. "_Oh_. She's just _perfect_, isn't she?"

"_Daddy_, I want _ice cream!_" she says, shrilling in her little four-year-old voice as she tugs at his pantleg. "You _said_-"

"Okay- _okay_, sweetie, but we have to do _this_ right now, okay? Just wait until after the cameras are gone!"

"But you _said!_"

He laughs, kneeling down to be at her level while the cameras train in on his face. "C'mon, honey, I _know_ that's what I _said_, but _sometimes_there are things that are more important than _ice cream_." Standing again, he puts on his polished-plastic grin and vaguely addresses the camera as well as his daughter. "Like _winning!_"

"But I want _ice cream!_"

She's whining, now, and Kevin knows this'll just make _such_ great television- people will sit on their couches and watch as his daughter whines about ice cream when she _could_ be showing how you win a pageant, and, worst of all, they'll all_laugh_. They'll laugh, hold their own children tight, and think that, somehow,_they_ are better parents than he is.

"Okay. _Okay_, Princess, how about _this_- if you do what Daddy says, we'll get you_ice cream._ Okay?"

She balls her hand up into a tiny fist and rests her chin on it, thinking it over. That was better- it was _cute_, which Kevin knows will make everyone watching at home feel bad for being so clearly judgemental of his parenting abilities just moments before. When she nods - a stiff, resolute movement, little brows furrowed - he lets out a sigh of relief.

"_Okay!_" she says, almost immediately resuming her pageant smile and pose.

* * *

><p><strong>5.<strong>

"Kevilynn has about 30 dresses, _all_ of them full glitz. It's _expensive_, but, ah, it's worth it. She's my _little princess!_"

His fingers run along ruffles and rhinestones, and he keeps grinning as he pulls one in particular out- "This one's her _favorite_." It's a mess of taffeta and gems, bright fuschia and canary yellow swirling together to make one big glitzy mess. "We call this her _lucky_ dress. Every time she wears this for formalwear, she _always_ wins a title. It's so perfect for her, too- she looks _great_ in these bright colors." He runs his hands over the rhinestones covering the front, smiling softly before he places it back in the closet. "Now, I work as an _advertising executive_, and I just recently secured a big contract- I've been using my bonus to finance all of this. I feel so bad for the families who aren't as _lucky_ as we are."

It's not long before he's sitting down with his daughter, a rainbow of dresses arrayed around them for her to choose from. Some are covered in frills and appliques, while other are the slightest bit more demure. He leans in, gives her a quick tickle and a kiss on the forehead. "Okay, which one do you want to wear for_formalwear_, Princess?"

She stands, frowning around in thought at the luxury at her feet. Kevin subtly pushes the "lucky dress" forward, just a smidge, just enough that it touches her toe. She doesn't even seem to notice, except for the fact that she sort of steps on it as she turns, and it's all Kevin can do not to cry out and try to save it. "I waaaant..._blue!_" She points to a much plainer dress, not as dripping in excess but still sparkly.

He sits there for a while. "Honey...Kevi, you _know_ this is a really important pageant. I just...don't think the _blue_ dress is going to _cut it_. These girls- well, they're all going to be wearing their _very best,_and-"

"I _said_, I want the _blue!_" One little foot is stomped against the floor, and Kevin winces as he practically feels the ruffles of his own personal choice being crumpled under it. "Why can't I have it?"

"_Nnh_- Princess, look- look at _me_, honey, look at Daddy." He carefully takes her hand and turns her around. With a practiced, condescending grin, he gets up on his knees and puts his other hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to _win?_"

She doesn't respond for a few moments, instead just pouting and looking away from him. Kevin's eye twitches.

"I _said_, do you want to _win_, Kevi?" His smile widens, but it isn't in his eyes.

Tugging away from him, she tramples across the dresses and heads for her bed. "_No!_ I wanna wear the _blue_ one!"

"_Kevilynn C-_uh. Kevilynn _Price_ you- you get over here, right now! Can- can you_not_ film this, maybe, it'd just be nice if you could- _not_- _Kevilynn, listen to me_-"

* * *

><p><strong>6.<strong>

"We decided on the lime and bluebell dress. It's _much_ more her style."

Kevin crosses and uncrosses his legs, sitting with his hands in his lap and his eyes straight on the camera.

"Really, it was the better choice. Besides, that way, we can _really_ get creative with her performance costume. Oh, and, because this is the Miss American Inspiration pageant- well, they have a _different_ sort of category. It's called All-American or Inspirational Wear, and, _well,_let's just say I've been working a_while_ on this one."

"So you sew?"

"_Oh_, hah, _nooo_, no, I don't have _time_ for sewing! I work full-time at a highly-demanding _ad firm_, I barely have time to do pageants! No, no, I've just had the_idea_ for a very long time."

"So...you _designed_ it, then."

He laughs, waving him off. "_What?_ No! No, I can't draw to save my _life!_ No, I had someone design it after I _told_ them about it, and then _they_ gave it to someone else to _sew_. I'll tell you, it saved me _so_ much time and money."

"Uh..._huhn_. So, no one in your family sews?"

"My- okay, sorry, but I _thought_ we decided no family talk? _Hm?_" Clearing his throat and chuckling again, he sits back in his chair and smiles. "Yeah, no, it was easier to have someone _outside_ sew it."

* * *

><p><strong>7.<strong>

"My daddy loves me." Kevilynn kicks her feet back and forth as she fidgets a little, her hands at her curls. "And so does my papa!"

The crew looks at each other, but just shrugs. They'd had their suspicions, the same ones they've had about _any_ man who so willingly spent his time ankle-deep in sequins. It's not that big of a revelation, and _hey_, it looks good for ratings. Maybe they can get a touching story out of it.

"That's really sweet, honey."

"Uh-huhn! And my mommy does, too!"

"Uh, your _mommy?_"

"Yeah!"

"Where's- where is she?"

"Daddy said she and Papa should go stay at the place, ummnh...with Luke an' Sanyu an' Lilo an' Arwen!" She laughs, clapping a few times, completely oblivious to what she's just said.

Another look is exchanged, and they're unsure of what to do, what to say. A gay couple is one thing, but _this_...

She bats her eyelashes and squirms. "Can I have ice cream now?"

* * *

><p><strong>8.<strong>

"Kevin? Oh, no, Kevin's a great guy. He's really sweet, very, uh...he likes everything to be _really_ well done. I guess that's why he hired _me!_"

Tracey is always greeted with hugs, so this time is no exception- the little pageant girl clings to her legs, squealing happily, before Kevin is eventually able to wrangle her off. He just chuckles and grins, a bit on edge as they walk from the door to the kitchen. The house seems a lot bigger, suddenly, but nobody says anything.

"Okay, so, I just need you to do a practice with her _hair_, okay?" Kevin smiles, hands shoved into his pockets as he watches the two of them.

In short order, Kevilynn's up on the chair at the edge of the kitchen island, her stylist working at curling her hairpiece. She pushes the makeup brushes in front of her around, eyes fixed on the counter. Kevin, meanwhile, just stands by and smiles, rubbing her shoulder every once in a while.

"Ready to get your makeup done, honey?"

"No."

He laughs, leaning down and kissing the crown of her head. "_Aw_, sweetie, that's _funny_- Tracey came all the way from work to do your hair and everything, Kevi, we can't just send her away _now!_"

The girl sniffs, arms crossed over her chest and her chin tilted up. She shakes her head a few times, and Kevin just tries to keep calm. "_No!_" she repeats, a little bit louder.

"_Princess_- Kevilynn, _look_ at me. Do you just wanna not do the eyelashes? Or the hair?"

"_No!_"

"That's- that's not an _answer_, sweetie, you know how Daddy _feels_ when you don't really _answer_ him-"

"_I don't wanna do it_!"

His arms drop to his sides as he steps back. That plastic-perfect grin comes back as he leans down to her level. "Now, _honey_, we _have_ to do these things. They're_practice_, okay? And if you don't _practice_, you won't _win!"_

"_Mom and Papa said I don't have to win!_" she shrieks, and Kevin's face goes blank before he retreats to the other side of the room, hoping that perhaps she hit notes that only dogs could hear, or that maybe, just maybe, the editor will take pity on the man who is currently trying to form sentences in his own defence but whose jaw is only opening and closing without sound.

It's Tracey to the rescue, though, as she descends upon the girl with a strained smile. "Kevilynn, sweetie, do you want me to paint your nails? I've got your favorite color- look, it's that really nice _blue_ you like-!"

"_Yeah_, hey!" Kevin's voice is back, it seems, as he crosses over to them again, forcing out a chuckle. "That just sounds- that sounds _swell_, oh, yes, you two should just...do _that_, and, uh, I have to- to _make a phone call!_ Great...!"

* * *

><p><strong>9.<strong>

"I'm not a _polygamist_."

The cameraman blinks. "I, uh, I never said you-"

"You're _thinking_ it, I-I can tell! I just want to get it out of the _way_ that I am _not_ a polygamist. I'm...we're not even _Mormons_ any more! _Just_ because we live in _Utah_-"

"Sir, that's not what we-"

"It takes a lot of time and effort to raise five children! And so _what_ if maybe I'm not her _biological father?_ I- I just don't..." He sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Okay. Maybe I should _explain_."

"_Tuh_, that'd be _nice_," one of the other crew members scoffs, before he gets an elbow to the side.

"I...don't like women. Or- or _men_, either, uh, I'm just not..._interested_ in that sort of thing. But I always wanted _children_. It's- it's a bit of a catch-22, I guess! And, well, my best friend and his wife never really asked me to _leave_, and I just...really_love_ them. They're like my family. So...I'm sort of, uh, a-a second _father_ to their kids. Eh-heh. It's...it's an _odd arrangement_, yes, but...I love them all. There's_five_ kids total, and...and, well, Kevilynn's the one they named after _me_. She's my little precious princess. You understand."

It's strange because, oddly enough, the rest of the film crew realize that they do_indeed_ understand, mumbling to each other under their breath. A few nod, and one of them even smiles.

Kevin just grins back, glad that there's one less question to answer. "Oh, and, ah,_none_ of this goes to air, alright? _Yeah_, hey, thanks!"

* * *

><p><strong>10.<strong>

"So, _today_ is when Kevilynn meets up with her _baton_ instructor- yeah, she's a_twirler_, she's _really_ good, too- she has lessons _once_ a week until about a month before a pageant, at which point we _step it up_ a notch!"

The little girl stands in the center of the dance studio, effortlessly spinning the baton as she stares determinedly ahead of her. Kevin sits in the back, tapping his feet as his entwined hands dangle between his knees. It's a nice break from worrying, just seeing his daughter do her thing and enjoy herself.

At least, he _thinks_ she's enjoying herself. "Oh, yeah, she _loves_ it. Absolutely loves it." He chuckles, leaning back again as he starts to chew on his lower lip thoughtfully. "She's a _natural_."

"Okay, Kevilynn, let's try it again!" Her teacher shows off her own picture-perfect smile, holding her starting position like the practised professional that she is.

"_Nhnnh_, I-I don't _want_ to...! We just did it, I don't wanna-"

Of _course_- Kevin laughs, because it's become a bit too hard _not_ to when he's suddenly going to look like a fool on national television. Slowly, he stands, crossing the floor to stand beside his daughter. "_Sweetie_. Princess. Now, do you want to make Daddy look _bad_?"

She pauses to think it over, before flashing him a huge grin and nodding. "_Yes!_"

Chuckle. Chuckle. Uncomfortable chuckle. "_Oh_, she's so _cute!_ Okay, sweetie, well, will you practice again if _I_ do it, too?" He looks down at her with a carefully constructed expression of stern fatherly happiness, his hands on his hips in such a way that his whole stance just screams "oh, you little _hooligan!_"

It takes her a while, but it seems like she agrees to it. It would, of course, be easier for Kevin to properly conceive of her routine had he enrolled her in something as common - as _pedestrian_ - as tap, but he was willing to do_anything_ for his little girl.

And, in extension, for himself.

"_Nobody_ makes Kevin Price look like a _fool_." Smirking to the camera, he grabs the baton the teacher provides and starts to fumble his way through the act.

* * *

><p><strong>11.<strong>

"Alright. This is it. The _big day_."

The Hilton Garden Inn isn't Vegas, but it sure likes to think it might be some day. Considering how close St. George is to that desert oasis, it's expected that it might be a little glitzy. Of course, now that there are tons of taffeta and carloads of rhinestones slowly making their way into the building, the glitz factor is upped by about a thousand.

And really, Kevin Price wouldn't have it any other way.

"_Hi_, I'm Melinda _Pierce_, and I'm the _pageant director_ for the Miss American Inspiration pageant!"

Melinda Pierce is nothing if not fabulous- her hair is teased, her eyebrows are plucked, and her mouth is painted a frosted pink. She smiles brightly, head inclined to the side.

"Now, if there's _one_ thing I know, it's that Kevilynn is _dedicated_. She's a little_firecracker_ when she gets on stage, just _full_ of energy, but I think her _temper_ can sometimes get the _best_ of her." She primps a little, adjusting her hair before she goes on. "Her _daddy_, though, well- I think _he's_ more interested in winning than_she_ is. But he's a _great_ guy- you've met him, obviously- isn't he just_charming?_ You can definitely see where she gets it from-"

* * *

><p><strong>12.<strong>

"Okay! Okay, honey, here we are! _Who's_ gonna win today?"

Kevin drops their bags down at the door, glancing about their suite appreciatively. "Now, we _never_ do things halfway in this family. I can't afford to have our sleeping area _crowded_ with everything we need to win! It's just not conducive to a proper_working_ environment. Right?" Chuckling, he picks his daughter up and spins around the room with her, not noticing the fact that she's had her hand in her mouth for the past twenty minutes. "_Ooh_, just _look_ at this place, princess! Isn't it great?"

She nods, grinning and giggling and burying her face in his shoulder. She's bursting with energy, bouncing in his arms and, soon after he plops her down on it, bouncing on the mattress with increasing joy.

"Now, I'm just gonna go get your dresses unpacked, alright, Kevi? Okay, you just be _careful_, now!" He kisses her on the forehead, patting her side gently. Walking away, he doesn't seem to notice the slightly bloody fingers the girl pulls out of her mouth, nor does he see the small, perfectly white (and kind of red) tooth that comes along with them.

* * *

><p><strong>13.<strong>

"I- I cannot _even_ right now, okay? _Okay?_"

Hair dishevelled, hands tight on his knees, Kevin Price looks like he's about to cry as he glances around the room. It's not like the process of filming has been easy on him in the first place, but now, it just seems like things are getting worse and worse.

"She- this doesn't even make _sense!_ She's _four years old_, how- how do you_lose_ your _first tooth_ when you're _four?_ I didn't lose _mine_ until I was six and a _half!_I just- this is _horrible!_ Do you- you don't even know what this _means!_ My_daughter_ is sitting there with a _hole in her smile!_ This is a full glitz pageant, not some- not some _natural crap!_ I have spent _every bonus_ I've gotten since we've_started_ all of this on her!" He drops his head into his palms, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "She had _perfect teeth_. Just...just _the_ most perfect teeth, and_now_...now they are going to _judge_ my little princess, just because she's an _early bloomer_." Looking up again, he glares at the camera. "And when I _say_ we don't use flippers in this family, I _mean it_."

* * *

><p><strong>14.<strong>

"It's okay!" Tracey holds him and looks pleadingly at the camera, hoping they'll leave for a moment to maybe find out what cute thing Kevilynn is doing. "_Shh_, shh, Mister Price- _Kevin_, c'mon, it's- it's _okay_, just...deep breaths...we can _fix this_. It's...it's just...a _tooth!"_

* * *

><p><strong>15.<strong>

"I loss a _toof!_"

Kevilynn holds the thing up proudly, a badge of her first steps towards adulthood. There is a distinct gap now, the second tooth to the left from the center being the one clutched in her pudgy little fingers.

"Daddy'th crying, iss _funny!_" Giggling, she squirms and rocks back and forth, hands still clutched on the little bit of calcium and mineral salts. "I dunno _why_." There's a pause as she suddenly looks contemplative, little brows practically meeting in the center of her forehead.

"I wanna win!"

* * *

><p><strong>16.<strong>

"She is _going_ to win. Just _look_ at her!" Kevin sighs, watching as Tracey puts another bouncy ringlet in his daughter's hairpiece. "She's _perfect!_ Isn't that right, honey?"

"_Ah-hahn!_" Biting down on her lower lip - he winces as he remembers she's missing one of her perfect pearly whites - she tries her best not to squirm around with a hot curling iron so close to her head. "I'm gonna _win!_"

"You sure _are!_" He laughs, clears his throat, and pauses. "Um, _excuse me_ for a moment."

Kevin, unfortunately, doesn't realize the cameras are still watching him as he moves to the corner of the room and starts mumbling to himself that _winning isn't everything_. By the time he _does_ see them, he just lets out that nervous, barking laugh again, clapping his hands together. "What're you guys looking at _me_ for?_I'm_ not the _pageant queen,_ here!" He walks up to one of the cameramen, pats him on the shoulder, and crosses past him with a quickly mumbled, "_that doesn't get on the air_."

* * *

><p><strong>17.<strong>

"We'd like to call to the stage contestant number _seven_, _Kevilynn!_"

There's a rush of applause, loudest of all coming from her father as he practically explodes with support for his darling little girl. She's frilly and frothy in blues and greens, her spangled bodice catching the light and casting it across the room, onto the pale cream walls.

"Kevilynn is _four years old._Her favorite color is _magenta_, and her favorite person is her _daddy_."

Her little feet encased in perfect matching shoes, she takes tentative, practiced steps from one X to the next, making sure to smile. Glossed lips stay together, though, just as she had been hurriedly instructed to do before she was thrust onstage by her father.

"She likes to play with her brothers and sisters, and one day, Kevilynn hopes to be a _princess_..."

And it's over, 90 seconds are up, and she descends the stairs on the other side into the waiting arms of her father.

* * *

><p><strong>18.<strong>

Kevin grins. "We are going to _kill_ All-American wear. It's just..._perfect_."

It's past formalwear, past her perfectly glitzy cupcake dress, and now, onto the most excessive category.

"My daughter is _the_ most perfect little princess here. She's going to _win._She just- she just performs _so_ flawlessly. Look at that! Just- just _look_."

Kevin waves from the crowd, beaming as he points to his cheek, turning his finger in an effort to emphasize her ability to show off her dimples. She mirrors him, and he can't help but feel a little rush of joy. All of his actions - little waves, blown kisses, a few rump shakes for good measure - find their way onto the stage through his daughter as she parades across in fringe and sequins and rhinestone stars, her hat perfectly positioned on the mile-high curls piled up on top of her head.

"Patriotism at its finest!"

* * *

><p><strong>19.<strong>

She's decked out in more frills this time, but they're slightly more conducive to tossing around a glittering stick, less likely to get in the way of movement.

"We decided to go with your more typical _western wear look_, you know? Just the little cowboy hat, the fringe, the _pants_- yeah, pants are just so much _better_ for this sort of thing, especially since she has to do the- oh, there she goes!"

The music pounds out of the feeble speakers on either side of the stage, and as she begins, Kevin can't help but clap along to the beat. He's the only one standing, aside from Tracey, but he cheers with all his heart as his baby takes the stage once more.

"_Kevilynn! You can do it, honey! You're gonna win!_"

* * *

><p><strong>20.<strong>

"Oh, _gosh_. Okay. Okay! This is- this is _crowning_, and, well, we're just excited because we _know_ she's going to win. She's _Kevilynn C-_eh-_heh_, Kevilynn _Price_, she's just- she is _perfect_, and she was absolutely _flawless_ today."

The announcer retakes the podium, smiling out at the gathered families and friends and other members of the pageant retinues, an envelope in her grasp. "Alright, if we could _please_ have all the girls in our Tiny Miss division _on stage_, thank you!"

"_That's you, Kevi!_" he whispers frantically, shooing her up onto the stage as he sits in the front row, grinning like an idiot.

The girls assemble, all of them once more dressed in outfits with more sequins than most drag queens have in their entire wardrobes, and the former Miss American Inspiration stands to the side with cash, crowns and goodie bags at the ready.

"Alright, best smile goes to..."

"Okay, so, we're _probably_ not going to get _this_ one-"

"...Rawanda Anderson!"

"Yeah, well, that was expected." Kevin shrugs and claps anyway.

"Best hair is awarded to-"

"Oh, we've _got_ thi-"

"_Jackabeth Kirkmas!_"

"_What?_" He scoffs, flopping back in his chair. "_No_, no _way_, that is just- _no_. Look at that! That's not even _hair_. That's- it looks _terrible_."

His dissatisfaction grows throughout the crowning, frown increasing until, finally, it's time- "And now, our Tiny Miss _Supreme_ goes to..."

"If she doesn't win _this_, she's got a chance at Mini or- or _Grand_, oh, _gosh_-"

"-_Teena Lloyd!_ Congratulations!"

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief, hands clenching as he silently mouths a _yes_ and gestures for his little girl to come join him in the crowd.

* * *

><p><strong>21.<strong>

"And _now_, it's the moment I'm sure _all_ of you are waiting for- it's time to crown_the Grand Supreme_ of the _Miss American Inspiration pageant!_ Can I have _all_ the girls who _haven't_ won a title yet _please_ come on stage?"

Kevilynn, somehow still awake despite her energetic, stressful day, plods up onto the stage and gives them her best smile, still wary of showing her imperfect teeth. The other girls join her, ranging from practically newborn to married with three children in the audience or in the pageant, all arrayed perfectly, side-by-side. Trophies and crowns gleam nearby, and it's all Kevin can do to stop himself from tearing up.

He's in a daze as the Mini Supremes are called, his eyes only focused on his perfect precious princess of a daughter, who yawns for a moment before resuming her pageant pose, hands at her sides and a wide, closed-mouth grin on her face. And then, finally, like a flash of lightning, the words "Grand Supreme" are heard, and he snaps out of it.

"And now, our _Grand Supreme_ for the Miss American Inspiration pageant _this year-_the winner of _one thousand dollars_ in _cash_ and her entry fee to next year's pageant-"

"_Come on, come onnn_...!"

"_Is_-"

"_Oh for crying out loud_-"

"-_Roshara McKinley, congratulations!_"

There's applause, but Kevin Price can't hear it. All he hears is a dull, blank roar in the back of his mind as his eyes lock onto the shock of red hair that stands beside his baby, the freckles, the blue eyes- and everything becomes frightfully clear when her father joins her up onstage.

"_Fuck!_"


End file.
